


We Run the House

by BuckinghamAlice



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Boys Being Boys, Gen, Implied SuperBat, Kid Fic, Sleepovers, and write fics with them in them, especially Chris, quick everyone hop on the damichris ship with me, this happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2014-05-23
Packaged: 2018-01-26 05:14:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1676039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuckinghamAlice/pseuds/BuckinghamAlice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris Kent goes for a sleepover at his friend Damian's house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Run the House

**Author's Note:**

> I got the following prompt : Hey can you make a fic with Chris and Damian having a sleepover. Please, pretty please.
> 
> So this happened. It took forever to get written because I'm terrible. Also, this takes place in a very vague time (maybe sort of an AU) where Clark wasn't married when Chris came to Earth... and Chris was able to stay and grow up normally. He and Damian are around the same age.

“I am beginning to regret agreeing to this,” Bruce grumbled as Clark and Chris Kent entered the Manor. Clark was smiling brightly and had his hand on Chris’s shoulder reassuringly. Chris glanced up at the imposing man and his imposing house with a quiet little sigh.

“I’m not,” Clark replied. “And neither is Chris, here. Are you, son?” He gave Chris’s shoulder a little squeeze.

“No, sir,” Chris answered quickly. He squeezed the teddy bear he was holding very tight and glanced up to meet Bruce’s eye. “And thank you for having me.”

Bruce hummed and nodded. Stepping back from the doorway to let the guests in, he called over his shoulder, “Damian, your guest is here.”

Chris waited anxiously for a moment, hooking his thumb under the strap of his backpack. He and Damian had spent some time together now… and they were friendly. Chris liked him. He wasn’t sure, however, that Damian liked _him_. It was true this sleepover had been Damian’s idea, but he had been wondering if the other boy wasn’t planning some sort of trick on him or something.

But just then, Damian came down the stairs, holding a cat and looking like a villain in one of the James Bond movies Chris had watched with his dad. The boy had his hair slicked back and was wearing gray slacks and an ivory turtleneck sweater… and Chris felt terribly underdressed in jeans and a Flash t-shirt.

“Glad you could make it, Kent,” Damian said cordially. Chris smiled and petted the cat, Alfred, if he remembered correctly, as soon as the other boy was close enough. Chris looked back to his dad just in time to see him exchanging a glance with the other man.

Bruce cleared his throat and gave a nod. “Alright then. You two have fun… and stay out of the Cave. Not for fun.”

“Just for justice,” Chris chimed with a smile, and Clark sputtered a surprised laugh. Perhaps that was one of the things his dad said about Damian’s dad that he wasn’t supposed to repeat.

Bruce grumbled something again and passed a look to Clark before walking away. Clark followed him. The two men went into another room, and with his x-ray vision, Chris saw them disappear inside what looked like a large clock! Chris would love to ask where they were going (and if the clock somehow led to this mysterious “Cave” he’d heard about) but he knew he wasn’t supposed to use his x-ray vision to spy on people.

Damian deposited the cat on the floor and turned to face Chris. “Now, I suppose we should get started.” He eyed Chris quickly and then said, “Hm, cute teddy bear you have.”

“Thanks,” Chris replied with a smile.

Damian harrumphed. “I don’t sleep with stuffed animals. They’re for children.”

“Oh,” Chris said with a frown. He looked down at the bear. “I don’t _need_ to sleep with him…”

“Good,” Damian said with a grin. “You should probably let me hold on to him, so you won’t be tempted.”

Chris sighed and handed the bear over reluctantly and watched Damian hug it tight to his chest. The two boys went up the long, spiraling staircase to Damian’s bedroom and shut the door behind them. Damian referred to this as “his bedroom” but to Chris’s eyes, it was more than just that. It was big enough to be its own apartment, and had its own sitting area with a really comfy couch, a big TV, and a couple of video game systems.

“Wow,” Chris exclaimed, looking around him. “This is really neat.”

Damian shrugged and sat down on the couch. Hugging the bear tight, he announced, “I asked Grayson for a list of sleepover activities. We won’t run out of things to do.”

Chris nodded. “I asked my dad, too. But I thought we’d just play for a while and then go to sleep. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do?”

Damian laughed. “Well, the first rule is that you _don’t_ sleep. We have fun all night and we should be loud because we run the house. Well, _I_ do… and I’m letting you do it with me tonight.”

“That’s not what my dad said he used to do at sleepovers,” Chris fretted. “He said they’d watch movies or play Truth or Dare and eat junk food. And they slept in sleeping bags… and if it was warm outside, they slept under the stars.”

“Charming,” Damian replied. Then, with a mischievous grin, he added, “He’s not wrong, for once, but that isn’t all we’re going to do.”

Chris felt nervous again, and every rational part of him said that nothing good would come of Damian smiling like that. Trouble, for sure. Yet, at the same time, he was as intrigued as he had ever been and he wanted very much to know what the other boy meant.

Before Chris could say anything else, however, Damian nodded towards the game system. “Grayson suggested Dance Dance Revolution,” he said, finally setting the teddy bear aside. “I think we should start with that.”

Chris nodded and smiled, though he didn’t have the faintest idea what Damian was talking about. A revolution sounded loud and like it would get them both into trouble… and he had no idea what it had to do with dancing. He didn’t even know _how_ to dance. It had never come up during his days in Ft. Roz, and it had hardly come up since. But still he watched quietly as the other boy stretched a couple of mats out on the floor in front of the television and used the remote to turn on the television.

“Well,” Damian began. “Take off your shoes.”

Chris slipped his shoes off and watched Damian press the mat with his foot, which seemed to make several different songs play. Once he had arrived at a selection, Damian called, “Come on, Kent,” over his shoulder.

Chris wrinkled his nose and tilted his head. “Um, why don’t I just watch you?”

Damian shrugged. “Suit yourself.” The music began again in a moment and Damian began to jump around, stomping on the mat. Chris picked up that his feet were landing in time to the colorful arrows on the screen, and by the time the song had ended, Chris was itching to try.

He stood on the mat beside Damian and tried to mimic the way the other boy hopped with precision and stomped at the right time, but even with his speed, he didn’t have the finesse he needed. The game was praising Damian out loud and insulting Chris, but somehow he was enjoying himself anyways.

When the song ended, Damian flashed a mischievous grin. “You’re terrible at that.”

“I just need to practice,” Chris insisted with a nod.

Damian rolled his eyes. But before he could make the snarky comeback Chris was expecting, there was a brief knock at the door and Mr. Pennyworth came in with a large tray.

“I’ve brought provisions for the young sirs,” the Englishman announced. On the tray were a couple of boxes of cookies, a bag of chips, and a pizza fresh from the oven downstairs. “You’ll find the mini fridge stocked with juice and soda.”

Damian took the tray. “Very good, Pennyworth.”

“You’re welcome,” the older man replied drily. He gave a courteous little nod to Chris and left.

The boys changed into their pajamas before devouring the food Alfred had brought them. While they ate, they grew quiet, and Chris wondered if Damian was still enjoying himself… if he had been to begin with, actually.

“What’s next on the list?” Chris asked.

Damian frowned. “Well, Grayson said that when he was a Titan they used to play a lot of Spin the Bottle. But from what I read on Google, that sounds disgusting, so we won’t be doing that.”

Chris nodded and made a mental note to find out what Spin the Bottle entailed. “So… what else? How about Truth or Dare?”

Damian grabbed Chris’s teddy bear again and grinned mischievously. “Fine. Truth or dare?”

Chris thought a moment, because he wasn’t entirely sure how this game went either. “Truth,” he offered hesitantly.

“Is it true,” Damian began, lowering his voice slightly. “That you are jealous of me?”

Chris laughed and shook his head. “No, of course I’m not! Why should I be jealous of you?”

Damian looked affronted. “Because of… I’m…” The boy groaned and rolled his eyes. “Never mind. I’ll take a dare.”

Chris thought for a moment and then said, “I dare you to slide down the banister!” This was the first thing to come to Chris’s mind because he had just watched Dennis the Menace that afternoon.

Damian ran out into the hall, Chris on his heels, and gave a confident look as he threw one leg over the banister and sat down. He started to scoot backwards, so he could slide down, but before he had a chance to go very far, he yelped in pain and swore, “Oh, goddammit, freaking hell!”

He started to fall and Chris zipped up behind him and caught him.

“Kent, I should kill you for that,” Damian bit out. Chris gently lowered him to a position slumped against the other side of the rail because he didn’t look ready to stand… and Chris couldn’t imagine what sitting down after that would feel like.

“Do you want me to get someone to help?” panicked Chris demanded. “Mr. Pennyworth, or your dad?”

“No,” Damian responded between rhythmic breaths, clearly trying to use his training to control his pain. “I’m fine.”

Chris tilted his head and frowned. He felt guilty… he shouldn’t have asked Damian to do that… and his friend didn’t _look_ fine. “You sure?”

“I said I’m fine,” Damian announced with some finality. After a few moments of near silence (save the sound of the boy’s breathing), he went on, in a quieter tone, “Now, I have a dare for you.”

“Shouldn’t I get to pick?” Chris asked.

Damian smirked, and Chris felt his nerves spike yet again. “You can pick if you want,” the darker haired boy went on. “But only if you’re chicken.”

Chris snorted. “Well, I’m _not_ chicken.”

“Didn’t think so,” Damian replied. “Now, I dare you to go down to the Batcave.”

“What?” Chris squawked, eyes wide. “I… no! Your dad said specifically we should stay out of there…”

Again, Damian smirked and huffed out a little laugh. “ _Your_ dad is down there with him… he won’t do anything to you.”

“But…”

Damian shook his head. “But nothing, Kent. If you’re not chicken, you’ll go down there.”

Chris cleared his throat and started to walk down the stairs. The fact of the matter was that he was pretty curious what it was like in the Cave, but he didn’t want to cross Bruce or disappoint Clark. He cast a glance over his shoulder and he asked, “Damian, what do you think they’re doing down there?”

Damian snorted a little laugh but when he saw that Chris wasn’t laughing with him, he asked, “Wait, you really don’t know?”

Chris simply shook his head.

Damian sighed heavily. “Forget it. I don’t want to play this dumb game anymore.”

“I think that I’m not very good at sleepovers,” Chris said, sitting down on the stairs.

Damian shrugged and slowly lowered himself down beside the other boy. “I’ve enjoyed myself.”

“So have I,” Chris said quietly, nudging Damian’s arm.

The boys sat on the stairs together for some time, Damian using his phone to look up jokes online that he read to Chris, who provided an attentive and receptive audience. They eventually went back up to Damian’s bedroom, and after some requisite jumping on the bed, they decided the bed was big enough to share. They went to sleep with Chris’s teddy bear between them… but neither of them hugged the bear, because they were both far too mature.

In the morning, Chris woke up when he felt something soft smack him in the face. He cracked his eyes open and saw Damian, standing on the mattress with his pillow in hand.

“Oh, so you’re awake,” he announced playfully.

Chris sprung giggling to his feet and grabbed the other pillow. “I thought you batkids slept until the middle of the day.” He whacked Damian with the pillow and the fight began.

“Not when there are better things to do!” Damian exclaimed, landing a blow with his down stuffed weapon. The boys descending into giggling, laughing, out-of-breath messes as the pillow fight continued for a number of minutes.

“I’ll have to tell Grayson that this was the most successful of the exercises he recommended.” Damian breathed. “And that I won.”

Chris grinned and landed one final blow. “You mean _I_ won.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself, Kent,” Damian huffed. Dropping his pillow, he hopped down off the bed. “We should get cleaned up and go get some breakfast.”

“Oh, good,” Chris agreed with a nod. “I’m starving.”

Once the boys had brushed their teeth they raced each other down the stairs and ran to the kitchen. Chris saw, to his surprise, that his dad and Bruce were sitting at the kitchen table, drinking coffee and eating pancakes off of the same plate.

“’Morning, boys,” Clark said cheerfully. Bruce nodded a greeting.

Chris cocked his head. “Did you guys have a sleepover too?”

The two men exchanged a glance and Clark cleared his throat. “In a manner of speaking, yes.”

“ _Tt_ ,” Damian huffed.

“Did you two have fun?” Chris asked.

Bruce cleared his throat awkwardly and Clark shifted in his seat. But before either of them could respond, Alfred placed a plate of pancakes in front of each of the boys.

“For the young sirs, breakfast,” he announced. “And for the masters, a lifeline.”

Breakfast was eaten fairly quietly, and afterwards Clark told Chris to go and get his things ready so the two of them could go home. Once he was all packed up, Chris hovered near the doorway to Damian’s bedroom.

“You needn’t look so tragic,” Damian sighed. “You can come back sometime. I mean, I wouldn’t mind _very_ much.”

Chris smiled. “Well, good. I think I will.” He looked down at the teddy bear in his arms and with a sigh, he handed it to Damian. “You should probably keep him. You have more experience with animals than I do.”

Damian laughed and accepted the bear. “That was the corniest thing anyone has ever said to me. But… I’ll keep it… only so it doesn’t become a crutch for you.”

Chris nodded. “Thanks. You’re a good friend.”

Damian nodded. “I know.”


End file.
